Gallery of Broken Hearts
by Earthgirl11
Summary: A solid Jisbon fic. It starts the day before Red Rover, Red Rover. It is canon up to the end of the Crimson Hat, but after that it is all mine. Will be a multichap, although I am not sure how long yet. It will kinda explore the path to "Being ok," thus, the title is a lyric from Ingrid Michaelson's "Be OK," which I do not own. Please read and enjoy!
1. Anything But Ordinary

**EDIT: **

**This is my first time posting on FanFiction, and only my second time posting any fanfiction at all, so please excuse my mistakes, such as forgetting the author's note/disclaimer! Part of how I have written this fic is that there is a song that accompanies each chapter. This chapter's song is Anything But Ordinary by Avril Lavigne. Here is a youtube link if you want to hear it:**

** watch?v=upO6xtVi54E**

**Thank you for reading!**

**I do not own The Mentalist**

**Chapter 1 – Anything But Ordinary**

Jane lay on his bed, staring at the wall. Yesterday he had been happy. Nothing special, just an ordinary day. He and Lisbon had solved a case; through his expertise and her assistance, everything had worked out alright in the end, just like it was supposed to. There hadn't even been much paper work for her to do. It bothered him that his crime-solving (and fun-seeking) habits caused her so much stress and paperwork. Not enough to make him stop, but it still irked him, in the back of his mind, that others in the world punished her for his deeds, instead of being man or woman enough to get back at him directly.

The alarm went off. He didn't know why he still set it- Patrick Jane hadn't slept deeply enough to need an alarm in the morning for nearly a decade.

Going around in his monotonous, dreary, morning routine, he continued his previous thoughts.

He had been too happy yesterday. Happiness was not something he deserved, or should even take for himself. Being alone, haunted and tormented by his demons was what he needed. It was his penance. Not that he was a pious man at all. But if there was a God, it wouldn't hurt to be on His good side. For Angela and Charlotte's sake, if nothing else, he thought, unlocking the door of his blue Citroen.

Driving was, however, an acceptable escape. But only if it was at least twenty miles over the speed limit (except in areas with children. He wouldn't dare take another one's life). Driving fast could leave your demons in the dust for a bit, if you drove just fast enough- even if you kept yours wrapped around your finger. Around your left ring finger, to be precise. Patrick drove fast because it was dangerous. His reflexes and awareness were far too good to get him into an accident, but if he did crash into say, a guard rail or light post, he wouldn't care. The aforementioned God wouldn't perform a miracle to save him certainly, and would be doing Jane a favor if He didn't. If Jane took someone with him to an early meeting behind the curtain, then he would feel guilty- but what was another one when you are weighed down by your wife and daughter, especially if you're already dead?

Jane slipped under the usual façade he used in public, and walked into the CBI. He was in before all the rest of the team, which was hardly a surprise; he was usually the first into the office. Lying down on his couch, his thoughts turned to his hated adversary- his nemesis, his Wicked Witch of the West, his Moriarty- Red John. If he had been on the outside looking in on this situation, on his obsession with catching this man, he would have enjoyed trying to identify and understand some of his serious problems. Patrick chuckled aloud. He _was on_ the inside, had been for as long as there had been an inside, and he still didn't understand his problems, or even pretend to be able to.

Jane noted a quiet but heavy step coming up the stairs. Lisbon was the only one who would use the stairs in the morning, just to try and catch him by surprise. For being such a small woman, it was surprising that she had such a heavy footfall. As if she carried the world on her shoulders. It spoke volumes that at the same time they were such soft steps, for carrying all that weight. How does she mange to carry all that she does? How does she carry it, and with grace? Forget grace- with _style_? He would always be in awe of her for that.

There was a long silence, with both of them waiting for the other one to go first.

"Did you stay here all night, or did you go get some sleep?"

Jane sighed. "Lisbon, not using the elevator was a brilliant attempt to surprise me, but my keen psychic skills detected your presence as soon as you pulled into the parking lot."

"Now I'm worried. What did you do that I wouldn't approve of? Will I have to fill out paperwork?"

"What makes you think that I did anything of the sort? I'm hurt Lisbon."

"Because I've known you for longer than anyone could know you without committing a homicide, and I know how your excuses work, because I hear them every day, several times.

You severely needed more adult supervision as a child." Lisbon strode on to her office, with a small spring in her step. "Keen psychic skills, my ass…"

Jane smiled one of the sort of smiles he reserved for only when Lisbon's back was turned, and waited.

"JANE! Where's all my stuff!?"

Fixing a perfectly innocent look on his angelic face, he lept up from his couch to peer into Lisbon's office. Every object from her desk not made of paper or computer parts had vanished. To be more precise, every object that could possibly be thrown and reach its target.

"You should check with the security guard. He really should be more on top of this kind of thing. What kind of image does that show to the public, that the great CBI can't even control thievery in their own house?"

Lisbon sighed, and then fixed him with a playful glare. "Jane, I need my stuff back so that I can actually do my job."

"How about this. As you say, you have been around me for a long time. So… You be the psychic."

"What! There is no such thing as psyc-"

"No, there aren't. Just people smart enough to look like them, and follow the nonverbal cues of those around them. I admit it, I took your stuff. Now, use me to find it."

She looked open to the idea, while at the same time still wanting to be stubborn. Patrick loved that look. It meant she was about to give in.

"OK. You want me to do the trick where you hold the person's hand, guiding them around the room, and you follow the clues they give you? I can do it."

"Are you sure? Do you need any pointers? Because I'd be happy to-"

"Shut up and focus on the hiding place, genius."

Patrick was startled, as she roughly grabbed his hand. As soon as they touched, his blood started to pound. That is odd, he thought.

"No using your own powers!" She reminded him, holding of both his hands in both of hers, and stared into his eyes.

"Focus on where you hid them Jane. Visualize them in your mind."

The only problem was that Patrick was so focused on comparing Lisbon's eyes to emeralds that for a few moments he had no idea where anything was hidden.

She began to slowly lead him first around her office, then around the bullpen, pulling his arms this way and that, all the while focused on his eyes. It was a very peaceful experience. All he thought about was where he had hidden Lisbon's things- and Lisbon herself. Around the bullpen the second time, she stopped, and let go of his hands.

Lisbon strode over to the TV, opened the cabinet, and pulled out the basket full of cords. Underneath the cords, was her vast assortment of projectiles.

A whistle sounded. Apparently Rigsby and Cho had walked in and seen the whole thing, without either of them noticing.

Lisbon took off back to her office smiling triumphantly, with a short, "Good morning gentlemen."

"That is scary. Jane, are you giving the Boss lessons?" Rigsby was entirely wowed.

"Uh, no. Not in the traditional sense."

"Then how is she able to do that?"

"The real question is why aren't the rest of us able to do that, when we have fallen for those tricks so many more times than she has." Cho answered.

"Very true my friend, very true." Jane patted them both on the back, and sauntered towards the attic to brood in solitude.

How had Lisbon managed to do that so easily? It was scary, as Rigsby had said. Yes, they had been working together for nearly a decade, and she saw him pulling pranks like this quite frequently… Why hadn't he noticed earlier that she had been following him this closely? Looking back over the months since he had shot Timothy Carter, things had been different. Small, almost unnoticeable things, but prominent in their own way. She wasn't yelling at him as much, she was following his harebrained schemes without complaint, and she was beginning to think like him when she investigated. And then there was this sort of new found trust between them. She kept his secrets, spent more time with him, opened up to him, and gave him advice. And here was the kicker.

Teresa Lisbon had let him get away with murder, plain and simple. After all the talks about how she was going to stop him, she hadn't. She had helped him with that phone call, even. And then she had gotten him out of jail for it! She had always been there for him, but not like this.

Jane didn't know what was more interesting, that she hadn't stopped him, or that he hadn't cut open the man he thought was Red John regardless of the consequences, as he had openly said that he would.

He began to twist his ring around his finger. He hadn't lied when he told that girl (and Lisbon) years ago that revenge was for fools and madmen. It was true. He just happened to throw himself into the latter category.

Didn't Angela and Charlotte deserve to be avenged? Or was it just his meager attempts to piece his life back together via some contorted sense of closure? He couldn't be sure. He told himself it was what he wanted, so that was what he should do. That he was definitely sure of, that he wanted revenge. He had wanted it for so long that it really did shape not just his actions, but who he really was. But now, again, because of her, he wasn't so sure.

Damn that woman. Before he had started really opening up to her, he had never doubted what he should do, but now? He didn't regret it at all; it was just that everything was so much harder to see clearly because of it. Between Red John, Lisbon, and himself, everything was so tangled up in his head that the only reason he knew which way was up was because he used her as light and compass. First there was Sophie Miller, but she had just been a bridge. Lisbon was the real thing. Because of her, he wasn't sure that just breathing was enough in life. Should there be something more? Was it even enough to have loved so much, and lost in such a tremendous way? He had never been ordinary before, so why should he settle for it now? Settle for a life that wasn't marked by anything more than the common apes could feel and do. No, he wanted something far more, and far better than that. That was his drive. He didn't want to be ordinary, so he made sure that he wasn't. That's why he never followed the rules, and kept up this search for Red John. After being bounced around from team to team, that's why he'd picked Lisbon. She wasn't ordinary at all, and didn't seem to struggle with staying that way- maybe he could learn from that, he had thought. It had never occurred to him then that she would teach him far more than that, or that she would be so much to him.

Tomorrow was a big day- the ninth anniversary of Angela and Charlotte's murder. It was one of the very few things his life was marked by anymore.

But if there was one thing that Teresa Lisbon had taught him, it was that moving on is possible. Not just possible, but needed. After tomorrow, he would move on.


	2. Maybe

**A colossal thanks to those of you who are reading this story! I really appreciate it. **

**This is the song for this chapter: Maybe by Ingrid Michaelson**

** watch?v=wrAtSFm00ug**

**I have had these first two chapter written for a while, and I am working on the next two. This one works around the episode The Crimson Hat. Thank you again for reading!**

**DISCLAIMER: I wish I owned the Mentalist, but I don't, so I just tinker.**

Chapter 2~ Maybe

Lisbon stood there racking her brain for a solution. Her many attempts to bring the situation under control- excuses, rationalizations, all's well that ends well statements, even a plea for a time out- had been in vain. Everything she had tried so far had back fired on her and exploded in her face. Jane had not helped his own case at all; he was countering her excuses, and then he started to tease Wainwright.

"Jane, stop." It was the first thing that popped out of her mouth. Not that it helped either.

Jane had an insane capacity to tease people and make them completely fly off the handle, but this took the cake. Taunting Wainwright was totally out of line- but Wainwright's reaction? Slightly out of character for the head of a major law enforcement agency. Cho and Rigsby tackled him, while Lisbon fixed Jane with a look of utter disbelief.

Wainwright took a deep breath and straightened himself.

"On second thought, you're not suspended. You're fired."

Teresa didn't even register what he had said at first. But with that smirk on Jane's face, and watching him walk away, it all came crashing down on her.

She should be doing something to fix this. _Think of something Teresa!_

So she did what was natural to her, what she had been doing for years: She followed him. Ran after him.

Her thoughts were chaotic, and her heart was doing something crazy inside her chest.

_Don't let him do this Teresa. Don't let him leave. Not after this! _

She caught him at the elevator.

"Jane! Don't do anything rash. We can work this out. We'll fix it." Lisbon struggled to keep the slight desperation that was rising in her belly from coming out with her words.

"I doubt that."

"I'll come by your place tonight; we'll talk it out, okay?" More desperation now.

That gentle smile that pulled at his lips was so hard to read.

"You're sweet."

Lisbon totally cast aside the idea of trying to be calm and collected. This was wrong. Jane didn't say things like that unless he's about to do- or had already done- something stupid, and he knows it.

"Let me help you."

As the doors closed, her heart sunk. _This can't be happening. He can't be leaving._

After standing there for a few moments in a stupor, Lisbon slowly walked back to the bullpen. Wainwright was gone, which was good. She didn't know if she could stop herself from doing some serious damage if she saw him right now. It didn't look like the team had moved an inch since she had ran out. Poor Grace was a mess; Rigsby seemed slightly horrified; and even Cho looked shocked. Teresa didn't even want to know what she looked like.

She slowly continued on her way to the office, but not before taking a long hard look at the couch. Jane's couch. It seemed utterly wrong for it to be empty.

Teresa gathered up her things and went back out. She needed to get out of here. She needed to think. She couldn't even find the words to say good night to the team. She just left.

She drove for what seemed forever, not thinking of anything, just trying to clear her head. There was an ice cream shop that she stopped outside, but she didn't buy any, even though she wanted some. It felt wrong to go there without Jane. He would want some. Even if he wasn't hungry, he would want to come to reap the enjoyment of stealing some of hers, through all sorts of trickery.

Lisbon looked at her watch, while briefly remembering times when Jane would grab her wrist to look at her watch, even though he had his own. This felt like a good time to go find him. It had been nearly three hours since she had left the CBI. She grabbed a pizza and headed towards his house in Malibu.

It was quiet and dark as she pulled up the drive. Teresa had always hated that he had kept this house. Sure, it was helpful for bringing him out of fugue state, but hardly conducive to good mental health in any other way. But she understood, though. Moving on is a hard thing, especially when love is involved. She could relate to that in so many ways.

"Jane?" she called as she stepped in the front door. "Jane, I have food!"

Frowning slightly, she set down her things, and rested her hand on her gun. Something didn't feel right. She proceeded up the stairs, while flipping on every light switch she saw on the way. Then she saw it.

His room was entirely turned over. Drawers open, closets empty, and bathroom cupboards rummaged. He was just gone. It was obvious he had left for an extended amount of time, and there wasn't even a note.

Lisbon quickly grabbed her phone and hit two on her speed dial. There was no answer. Neither was there any the next two times she called.

Grabbing her things, she drove back home. Maybe he was at her house. Maybe he had left the country. Maybe he was sleeping. That made a bit of sense, except that anyone who really knew Jane (meaning only her really) knew that Jane didn't really sleep. If he ever managed to catch any, it certainly wasn't enough to cause him to miss a phone call. No, it was something else.

As she came inside her own house, she tried again. After five more calls, there was still no answer.

She knew what that meant. He was avoiding her. He was purposely not taking her calls. He didn't want her help, and he was going off on his own. HE never used to include her in his schemes; that wasn't until recently that he started doing that. So she didn't understand why it hurt her this much, that he had shut her out again. After all, he was just her annoying, pesky, problematic consultant. She should be glad he was gone.

Lisbon sank into her bed, and shook her head at herself. Who was she kidding? Yes, he was all those things, but where would she be without him? She had to make him come back. She could do it. She could convince him that it was better to stay with her and work it all out.

Large, solitary tears began to slip down her cheeks. Jane would be back within a week; two weeks; a month, at the absolute longest. She hoped she could make it that long.

**Six Months Later**

The ring of a cell phone pierced the silence of the dark apartment.

"Lisbon. Yeah, got it. 1031? Thanks, Grady. Yeah, bye."

A year ago, she would have been upset by catching a case at two in the morning. Not anymore. It wasn't like she was asleep anyways.

Lisbon quickly called the team about the location of the new vic, and hopped in the shower.

In the first few weeks, she had kept calling Jane each time they got a new case, in the hope that he would show up. What did she care that he had been fired? After a few weeks, she had stopped. But she had still kept calling him, every Saturday night. For three months she had kept that up. She always left a message, in the hope that perhaps her voice could shock him back to reality. Each time she asked him to come back, told him they could fix it. Then she had just stopped. Too many late night cases- it just fell by the wayside. He never answered anyways. But that didn't stop her from thinking of him.

She needed to let him go. She didn't want to, but it was the best thing. She let him go, and then she waited. The only way to really know if he would ever come back to her was to really let him go. Maybe in the future, he could come back to her. She was still waiting, but she knew he was worth it.

She would hear about him sometimes and his crazy behavior. She ignored them. Maybe if she erased him- not from her past, or her future- and just let him live his own present, he would come back. It wasn't like she had much experience with these sorts of situations. Normally when people left her life, she was glad they had. Not this time.

Everywhere she went, she was reminded of him. His empty couch, her empty couch, the tea-free kitchen, his too quiet attic, her lonely office, his barren desk, the friendless coffee shop, the friendless ice cream shop, the friendless diner- they were full of memories.

So she would leave the office when she didn't really need to, to chase down things that could have been done over the phone, or by someone else. It was kind of like Jane in a way- except she wasn't just out for a thrill. She was out to escape.

She tended to walk more, because just like everything else, the cars were filled with him too. Just because Cho, Van Pelt or Rigsby sat in his seat didn't mean he wasn't like he was still there.

Lisbon sighed as she got in the car. This was just too early to start the day.

Lisbon watched as Lorelei was handcuffed and let out of the interrogation room. It was great that they had her, someone who had been so close to Red John; but what that woman said and did was enough to drive her over the edge. It was just so offensive she didn't know what to say. _Just let it roll off your back,_ she breathed to herself.

Staring into the bullpen, Lisbon saw Jane lying pretending to sleep on his couch, exactly where he should be. It had felt wrong without him sitting there like a permanent fixture in the months before.

For six months, all Lisbon had wanted was for Jane to be back, and be able to talk to and spend time with him. But now, because of the things that Lorelei had said, she wasn't quite so sure anymore. It wasn't as if Lisbon had any sort of hold on him herself, but hearing that woman call him lover was almost more than she could stand.

She shook her head at herself. She had begged him many times over six months, had prayed for a miracle in that church, and stuck her neck out for him to help him with his scheme. After all that, was she really going to let him slip away? Whatever it was that she was feeling towards Lorelei, she should throw it away. It didn't matter. She had gotten what she had wanted. That was what mattered. She had let Jane go, and he had come back to her, all on his own.

"Lisbon?"

Her head jerked up to see that Jane was no longer on the couch but standing in front of her.

"Get your stuff. We're going out."

"What? Where? I still have paperwork, and-"

Jane put a soft finger to her lips to stop her words. "It doesn't matter. It will still be here tomorrow. We need to talk. We haven't been able to do that for months. Come on."

His voice was gentle and tender, with something else she couldn't recognize.

Grabbing their things, Jane led Lisbon to the elevator, with his hand on the small of her back.

Jane drove his Citroen remarkably legally, as he stopped by the Chinese take-out, and then went on to Lisbon's house.

They bantered back and forth, falling into the natural order of things, not really talking about anything at all, until Jane cleared his throat and spoke with a serious tone.

"I want to preface by saying thank you. I would be dead or a servant of Red John right now if it wasn't for you. You are an amazing person for caring enough to help me out after what I did to you over the past six months."

Lisbon looked down, while Jane reached over to hold her hand, in the same way he had after she had rescued him in the desert- loosely grasping her elbow, and then sliding his hand down her forearm to her hand, like a caress. Her heart skipped a beat as she compared the two moments.

"Two days before I left, I was going to move on."

Lisbon looked up into his face immediately, her attention fully on him.

"I had decided that after the anniversary, it was time. And it wasn't in the way that Red John wanted either. It wasn't going to be giving up; it was going to be forgetting, and getting over it. Because you're right: I do need a new life."

"Then why didn't you? You could have ignored Red John."

"You know he doesn't work that way. You know that if I didn't give him a reaction, then he would kill again. That's how it works. There are only two choices: I either beat him at his own game, or he continues to kill. And all those women would just be more blood on my hands."

Lisbon cupped his cheek with her free hand. "We will catch him Jane. Us, together. Just no more of you going off all on your own, okay? Got it?"

With a small smile he nodded his head. "Got it." He took a breath. "I'm sorry; I should have told you about Lorelei. It wasn't fair to let you get blindsided like that."

Lisbon found it hard to ignore the warm circles that Jane's thumb was rubbing on her hand and wrist.

"Jane, you don't need to be sorry. That's your own business, not mine."

He nodded and stood up, swallowing her lie, while still holding Lisbon's hand. "It's late, and you look exhausted. But I have to say, you look pretty spritely for a dead woman."

Lisbon laughed and slapped him teasingly in response.

They both walked up to the front door and paused. On impulse, Lisbon pulled him into a hug, similar to the one just before he had shot her, but better.

"Thank you for coming back to me."

Jane pulled back and smiled.

"I will always come back to you."

He went as if to leave, but then spun back around and came very close to her. Close enough to feel his breath, and to make her look up into his eyes, as he looked into hers.

"Teresa, I have a very good memory. I don't ever forget anything for very long. I remember everything eventually, and when I do- I always do something about it."

He kissed her softly and sweetly on the cheek and then left, leaving her dumbstruck on her front door step. It took her a moment to understand what he was telling her, but what he had said made her want to leap for joy. There was only one thing she could ever remember him saying that he forgot, something she couldn't believe he'd forget. He was telling her that he would remember it. Because maybe, his love for her would come back, just like he had.

He was telling her to have hope.


	3. Gypsy Woman

**A/N: I am so sorry! I really did not mean to take this long to upload the next chapter. I am a highschool student, and the semester started a little bit after I posted the most recent chapter, so this just got pushed to the wayside. I am not entirely sure when the next chapter will be up, but I have not forgotten this! **

**A huge thank you to all who review or follow this story! Constructive criticism is certainly appreciated!**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything in this word, especially not the Mentalist**

* * *

**Chapter 3~ Gypsy Woman**

Patrick Jane sat on his couch, watching as the team bantered back and forth in their usual fashion. There seemed to be some sort of argument about whose turn it was to buy lunch. Apparently Rigsby had bought it the last two times, and then Grace had bought Taco Bell before that. It all seemed to point to being Cho's turn.

"Come on man! It's nearly one, we're all hungry, and let's face it- everybody knows it's your turn." Rigsby sat on the corner of Cho's desk.

Cho glanced up from his book and stuck him with a blank stare. "Who always buys the case closed pizza?"

Lisbon laughed from her doorway. It was true that Cho always did- that place had been his first job after getting out of the gang years ago, so he got a discount.

"Alright guys. Grace, go buy us something and we'll all pay you back. Rigsby, Cho, get back to work!"

Her teasing tone became soft as stepped to stand in front of the couch.

"Jane? Lorelei is here."

Together they walked to the door of the interrogation room.

Lisbon stood still next to him.

"Are you sure you want to go in alone?"

Jane paused, and then nodded. It was time. He swallowed his trepidation and went.

Interrogation didn't normally scare him- so why was this any different? _Because the stakes are so much higher with her. _

He slipped in through the door and went to lean against the glass on the back wall. Lorelei reminded of the gypsies that he grew up seeing occasionally. She had a similar mystique; her whole air was one of heavy secrecy, and she tasted almost forbidden. The exotic beauty throughout her features did nothing to discredit the feeling, but enhanced it. She seemed enticingly dangerous, and if he didn't know better, totally untamed.

She smiled at him, as if she was surprised he was there.

"Hello lover. Won't you come sit with me?"

Her hands slid to pat the table above the chair opposite her. Lorelei's jumpsuit was unzipped to just above her bra, causing the motion to showcase her breasts, and catch Jane's eyes. Other images of her breasts ran through his mind, clouding it.

Her eyes sparkled. "I can hardly see you, standing back there; I've missed you so much."

Her grin grew as Jane sat down and placed his hands on hers. They were warm and inviting, just like her eyes. Peaceful, like pools of liquid amber, swirling, asking him to dive in. Memories of the fleeting illusion of calm he had experienced when he was with her were awakened in him. He heard her speaking to him soothingly, but he had no idea what the words said. He as too distracted.

A little voice spoke softly in the back of his mind, warning him; but he ignored it. He bent to smell her wrist, and began to feel slightly intoxicated from the fragrance. It was sweet like sugar, but strong. Lorelei's voice continued, smooth and appealing. It was asking him a question.

"What are you thinking lover?"

"When I was a boy, in the carnival, there were gypsies that came with us occasionally. You remind me a little of them."

She laughed; light and tinkling like a bell.

"Were they pretty?"

"Very. The women drew you in with their wiles, like a mermaid draws in a sailor. They say that mermaids would pull sailors under the water, drowning them, to take them for husbands." He inhaled more of her scent, ignoring the thought that there was something he liked more than sugar.

"Drowning is said to be peaceful, and all you think of are pleasant things. I think I know what that feels like now."

* * *

Lisbon stood watching on the other side of the glass. The interrogation had been out of character for Jane. She had been waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the web to ensnare the fly, for Jane's plan to come through. But as she watched the grin widen on Lorelei's face, she realized that his plan had failed, that he was the fly, and there was no other shoe. The enormity hit her full force. She had to get in there.

"Jane!" she called as she bolted in the door. He didn't turn to look at her; he just stared straight ahead.

Grabbing his shoulder and turning him to look at her, Teresa stared into Jane's eyes. It was like there was nothing there. One of her hands went to pat his cheek, while the other flew to her phone.

"Cho, call an ambulance, and get into interrogation now! Something's happened to Jane."

In a few moments, Cho jogged in. Together they guided Jane out into the hall, who was somehow able to walk. Teresa took a breath, having had a few moments to formulate a plan.

"Take Jane, and get him to the hospital. He is in some sort of trance. They should be able to figure it out. Stay with him, and wait for me. Don't call me- I don't want to know anything before I get there. I'm going to go back in there."

* * *

Cho nodded and led Jane towards the sound of the arriving ambulance, and Lisbon walked into the bullpen.

"Rigsby, tell me we have something new on Lorelei!"

Lisbon strode in the door with confidence. If there was one thing she'd learned from Jane, it was that if you look and sound confident, people will believe you- even if you have zero basis for any confidence at all. And what she had was way above zero. Plus, if anything happened, Rigsby was watching from behind the mirror. There was always that.

"Hello, Lorelei."

And then Lisbon began to lay down pictures. A little girl, happy, with a loving family. Taking ballet lessons, and art classes. A newspaper article, with a picture of a bereaved mother. An angry father. Pictures of the sides of milk cartons and posters put up on boards at Wal-marts.

"This poor girl was kidnapped and held without ransom. She was taken while she was walking home from her high school. There was no evidence to follow, and the only semblance of a lead was that one of the girl's cousins had also disappeared, within a week of the kidnapping. He was nearly fifteen years older than her- there was never anything found about him, and there was never much time put into finding what seemed like a simple runaway. That little girl was never found. Just one among many. The girl's mother was distraught, but she didn't have long to suffer. Six months later, she was the first known victim of Red John."

Lisbon sat and looked across into Lorelei's hazy looking eyes, taking one of her hands.

"That little girl was you. Your parents had you fingerprinted before you were kidnapped, in case anything was to happen. You have been living with your cousin all this time, training. Training to help him with whatever he needed. Training to help him be the illusive Red John. Now after all this time he's let you get caught. And this is the mistake that will help us catch him. Because you were kidnapped. You didn't want to go with him. Lorelei, this man snatched you out of your childhood, trained you to kill like he does, and he violently slaughtered your mother. Do you really want to continue protecting him?"

Lorelei looked away from the photos briefly, wiping something away from her mouth. When she turned back her eyes were fierce.

"815 Shannon Mesa Drive. Box number 162342 at Acai Orchard Safes. 4108 Lynwood Street."

Lorelei coughed into her hand, and then looked at it. It was covered with blood.

"I'm sorry I can't help any more than that."


End file.
